Angels and Assassins
by Ashen Skies
Summary: [1x2x1, 3x4] In the world of assassins, everyone knows Heero Yuy’s name. And so he is given a seemingly impossible assignment: to track down one Dee Maxwell, and kill him. But then he gets to know an angel named Duo… and life gets really interesting.
1. In Which Quatre Prophecizes

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gundam Wing, have any relation to Gundam Wing, have no permission from those who created Gundam Wing to write this. This is purely for fun, to waste time, and to make other people happy reading and to spread the joy of literature to all those poor unenlightened fellow man out there. I am making no profit from this.

**Pairings: **1x2x1, side pairing 3x4

**Summary:** In the world of assassins, everyone knows Heero Yuy's name. And so he is given a seemingly impossible assignment: to track down one Dee Maxwell, and kill him. But then he gets to know an angel named Duo… and life gets really interesting.

* * *

**Angels and Assassins**

_Chapter One: In Which Quatre Prophecizes _

_

* * *

_

Heero was five minutes early, but when he walked into the café he wasn't all that surprised to see that Winner was already waiting for him in a corner booth, sipping from a glass of light-coloured coffee. He slid in silently on the other side of the table as the waiter approached.

"The latte is good." His employer gestured vaguely with the glass in his hand; toasted him a little and sipped another mouthful. "But since I know you… he'll have a cappuccino," he said to the waiter, who bowed slightly and retreated wordlessly. The blond turned back to smile at him. "The cappuccino isn't bad, either, if you like cappuccinos. Or would you prefer something else?"

He ignored the question. Winner knew that perfectly well that he didn't mind cappuccinos. His employer was the closest thing he had to a friend; the use of his surname served to remind him that despite that fact, theirs was still largely a business relationship. "I am the only one who can do this?" he said instead.

"I'm afraid so," was the reply. "They specifically demanded you to take the case."

"You told them I was on leave?"

Winner's expression was apologetic. "They upped the price, and I have to say it's a _very_ good offer. I don't like them all that much – their arrogance was one of the reasons I pushed the price higher – but the profit we can make from this would mean we wouldn't have to take any more clients for at least the next four months, if we wanted to."

He hated people like that, but the pay _did_ sound attractive. Their company was newly-started, and though under Winner it was fast gaining a name for itself they still needed more money to finance their operations. "What class?" he said finally. Despite the money he wouldn't take anything less than A-3, to give up his precious relaxation time.

"A-1."

Of course. He should have known that Winner would know he'd only willingly let his leave be cut short for an A-3 and above. The blond in some aspects knew him better than he knew himself, and could almost read his mind at times.

"You can take your leave after this is over, and the pay is _very_ good," Winner said mildly.

_He did it again,_ muttered the voice in his head. "When would I have to start?" was what he actually said.

"As soon as possible, hopefully. You have a lot to do."

When Winner said 'as soon as possible', he meant 'immediately'. There was a problem, right there. "I was planning to satisfy my body's demands tonight," he said calmly. "I cannot guarantee absolute impartiality, physically or emotionally."

His employer looked thoughtful. "Yes, that might pose some difficulty." He frowned slightly, and then smiled brightly. "No matter. One day will not make a difference. I allow you to start tomorrow," he said magnanimously

Heero shook his head, amused. "I am humbled by your generosity, O generous one."

"But of course." Winner winked at him.

He smiled a little, and sat back as the cappuccino arrived. When the waiter left he said, "Alright, tell me."

"The target is Dee Maxwell."

"Real name?"

"I know it doesn't sound like it, but it should be. Who knows, though? Anyway, he's twenty-four this year, and believed to be American, though no one has any idea what he really looks like; he's a master of disguises and used to go to work using many different personas."

"And his company let him?"

"He _was_ their most brilliant scientist; what are a few eccentricities in the face of science? I think they'd have done more than that – he commanded a very high pay, by the way – to get him to work for them."

"Which company?"

Winner smirked. "BioT."

Heero let out a low whistle. "The multinational bioengineering company worth billions? He must be good."

"The best. He was given everything he wanted, and revered as the board of directors' pet. Yet… one day he simply packed up and left. He took all his research with him, wiped out all traces of what he was doing and of himself from the database and the actual lab itself, and disappeared. At that time he was tasked with some top-level secret project, so it's highly probable that this was what made him take off."

Heero grimaced. He hated that sort of person – pampered, spoilt, exploiting his intelligence and finally turning out to be a traitor that bit the hand that fed him. Probably he felt that the latest project was too much work that didn't pay him enough. "So what exactly am I supposed to do with him?" he asked.

"Our client, his former employers, wants that research back, and Maxwell dead."

Ah, this changed things slightly. Dead – they weren't bothering to keeping him alive to make him further his research. That meant they wanted secrecy above all, and didn't mind that his death would mean a large possibility of slowing down their progress. It meant that their research was so important to them that they would rather operate on the basis 'guilty until proven innocent', and not give any chances to fulfil the latter half of that phrase. Desperate almost always meant illegal. It was suspicious, and from the look in Winner's eyes, the blond knew it, too.

"Alright. Continue."

"Ah… this is one of the reasons why the mission is an A-1 class, and why I demanded such a high pay…" Winner trailed off, offering his friend a sheepish smile.

"You don't _have_ any more information?" Heero demanded incredulously.

"Uh… we know that he's good at computers? Since he managed to wipe the system clean of any trace of himself."

"…"

"I did mention he's a master of disguises, right?"

"…"

"Oh, come on, Heero. Please? We both know you're one of the few in the business good enough to be able to track down and capture a target with so little information. I've gotten a clause in the contract that says they aren't allowed to hire anyone else while we're on the case, either, so you have more time and leeway to do things."

"…"

"Please?"

He couldn't resist the utterly hurt, begging expression Winner gave him. The man had the face of an angel, and like the devil he was he was never above ruthlessly exploiting that fact.

"…Fine."

Immediately a huge smile graced the blond's face. "Really? Thank you!"

"Hn. I start tomorrow, and only then," he warned.

"Of course, of course, by all means go jump someone tonight. Don't worry, I bet you'll find Maxwell in no time at all!"

Sometime in the near future, he would recall that sentence, and remind himself never to bet with Winner again, because Winner was a prophet.

* * *

This is terrible. I've started a new story, when I'm not even remotely close to finishing anything else.

I am dead.

But! I am working hard to write them all.

If you liked, please review! If you hated, please don't flame, but just… criticize. Constructively. If you hate me for starting a new story, please don't flame me either, but you have permission to spam my inbox with hate mail. Not too many though, please.

**Ashen Skies  
**"…_by all means go jump someone tonight."_


	2. In Which a Disgusting Cliche Appears

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gundam Wing, have any relation to Gundam Wing, have no permission from those who created Gundam Wing to write this. This is purely for fun, to waste time, and to make other people happy reading and to spread the joy of literature to all those poor unenlightened fellow man out there. I am making no profit from this.

**Pairings: **1x2x1, side pairing 3x4

**Summary:** In the world of assassins, everyone knows Heero Yuy's name. And so he is given a seemingly impossible assignment: to track down one Dee Maxwell, and kill him. But then he gets to know an angel named Duo… and life gets really interesting.

* * *

**Angels and Assassins**

_Chapter One: In Which a Disgusting Cliché Appears _

_

* * *

_

There was a long line outside the club, but Heero strolled right up to the entrance, giving the bouncers ample time to take a long look at him. He knew he looked good – tight, black leather pants riding low on his hips over black boots and a form-fitting dark blue sleeveless turtleneck, a simple combination that he knew nevertheless made him look taller, and his legs longer. Black leather cord was loosely wound around one wrist, a fine silver chain around the other. He'd spiked his dark brown hair and put on black kohl that drew attention to his unique Asian eyes, something that he'd found drew a lot of American men especially with his dark blue gaze tending towards the intense side.

He was let in without anything more than a few wolf-whistles; the bouncers knew him, and even if they hadn't beautiful people were let in on principle. Heero hadn't liked flaunting his body like this, but once every couple of weeks the craving would grow in him and he had to visit the nightclubs and pick up a one-night stand, and so he'd gotten used to it and now saw these club nights as nothing more than a way to maintain his body's perfect condition.

This club had been a factory once; now its entire ground floor had been cleared for dancing. A second floor, installed all around the perimeter of the inside wall, was where the food and drink was sold and overlooked the dance floor like a balcony. It was about eight paces across – just enough for the bar, and a two-person wide path. A waist-height railing with glass panels marked where the floor ended and the air began. Metal and glass, silver and black were the main themes; the lights were varying dark shades of blue, red and purple. Subtle, and not flashy like most. He liked that.

Heero took the winding spiral stairs up to the second floor and found a place at the bar; seeing the bartenders all busy, he turned in the chair to face the dance floor, leaning on his elbows against the counter. He watched the thrashing crowd below him go through convulsions centering mainly around the hips. He'd seen this form of 'dancing' before, and sadly, it hadn't improved any since then.

Movement on his right: the man who'd been ordering came away from the counter with four mugs of beer clutched in his hands. Finally. He turned slightly on his stool and nodded to the bartender, who paused behind him.

"Something light."

"Sweet?"

"Yes."

The bartender brushed a thick bang out of his face and scrutinised him with sharp green eyes. "Ausbruch?"

"Austria?" A nod. "Hmm… no. something less alcoholic."

"A Muscat. Brown liqueur, Australia."

He considered that; it was a good wine, one he'd tried before and liked… no. he was in the mood for something… "Lighter. Frontignan?"

"Lower Rhone?"

A good wine. He nodded.

"A moment."

Another thing he liked about this place – its bar offered higher-class wines from the best locations for those patrons who wanted something better than the crass beer so many drank, and its bartenders were carefully chosen and trained. The one he'd talked to was new, but no less professional than his older counterparts.

Something on the dance floor caught his eye.

There were two women near the edge of the crowd, dancing together. He watched the one with the long auburn hair, beautiful hip-length hair that fell softly in waves down her back, the strands from the sides pulled back to make a braid that gave some order to the rest of the mass. She was slightly shorter than he was, from what he could see, with a lithe build that lent itself well to dancing – her movements were graceful and fluid, nothing like the spasms going on around her. Her friend, though good, paled in comparison. He wished he could see more than her back.

_If only she were male,_ he mused. _I'd take her to bed in a second._

Then the dancer turned, and he got a good look at the body and face that was definitely _not_ female. He was beautiful enough to be one, though; beautiful enough to be an angel fallen to sin. A long-sleeved, v-neck wire mesh shirt showed off his lean torso; he wore dark red leather pants and black boots similar to Heero's own. The man tilted his head back, and his expression was of one lost in the music, in the dance: sultry, hungry. His kohl-lined eyes were heavy-lidded, and his lips blood red.

Heero wanted him with a sudden, fierce _need_ that surprised himself. It wasn't only the gorgeous features that attracted him – it was the way he abandoned himself to the music, and the liquid grace with which he moved. The way Heero _himself_ moved, when he deigned to dance. He was a little appalled at the way he'd lost control of his _want_ so easily, but couldn't bring himself to look away.

Then those eyes opened, and locked onto his; Heero saw them widen, and then lower again – and that gaze was as hungry as his expression. His world narrowed to that one figure on the dance floor as the dancer licked his lips and gave him a slow smile that said _keep watching_. He raised his arms over his head, stretching in a way that offered Heero his entire body, then lowered his arms, slowly running his hands down over his upper body, his hips… Heero licked his own lips, aware of those eyes watching him as intently as he was watching the other man, and raised his gaze to meet them. _I want you_, said both pairs of eyes.

"Your Frontignan, sir."

That jerked Heero out of his trance – suddenly the music was too loud, the lights too flashy. What was he _doing_? He'd never lost control of himself like that before. Turning on his stool, he picked up the glass by its slim stem and delicately swirled it, savouring the smell to clear his mind, then sipped it. The wine was good, and cool as it flavoured his mouth and trickled slowly down his throat. He nodded at the bartender and offered him a small smile. "It's good. Thank you."

The bartender nodded, and the one visible green eye was pleased. He moved off, and Heero hesitated, staring down at the liquid in his glass.

_I'm not supposed to… ah, screw it. It's the one night I can let myself go, and I'm not going to give up someone like_ that.

But when he turned back to face the railing, and looked down at the crowd, the dancer was gone, and only his friend remained to tell him that the man hadn't been his imagination. A deep sense of disappointment welled in him, but he ruthlessly pushed it back down. There were other men around that would do.

He knew, though, that after seeing the dancer, 'other men' would never be enough.

_I've gone insane_, he thought to himself, sighing. _All this fuss over one man._ He turned back to the counter, suddenly not wanting to look at the crowd, and lifted his glass to drink from it.

A warm body pressed against his back, an arm wrapping around his waist while a hand slid down his right arm to curl slim fingers around Heero's own, holding the glass stem. "May I have a taste?" purred a low voice in his ear. His body, which had tensed at first contact, relaxed and Heero repressed the delicious shiver that wanted to run through it at that voice, but he couldn't stop the heat that spread through him and coiled low in his belly. He instinctively knew who this newcomer was. "Be my guest," he replied, his own voice soft and almost a purr.

The man behind him shifted to stand beside him, though the arm remained around his waist. To his surprise and increasing arousal, the auburn-haired man gently took the glass from Heero, put it on the counter, and brought Heero's hand to his mouth and pressed his lips to the back of it. Heero nearly groaned out loud as glittering purple eyes looked up at him, and the man smiled, cat-like. He _did_ let out a small moan as the man turned his hand over to kiss the base of his palm, then licked his way up to the wrist, where his tongue darted out and licked the pulse point.

"Very nice," was the murmured pronouncement, and lust coloured every syllable. Then he gently released Heero's hand and picked up the wine glass. Heero watched as he smelled, and then sipped the wine delicately. Then that beautiful face turned to him, and purple eyes trapped his own deep blue ones. "Not as good, but for a mere wine, it'll do. A Frontignan… you have good taste."

Heero allowed a smirk to surface as he openly ran his eyes over that lean body before meeting those eyes again. "Yes. I do."

Heat filled the purple gaze, and he gently put the glass down before tugging Heero to face him, side to the bar. The stool was high enough that it put Heero slightly below eye level with the other man, and fixed to the ground so that even as he parted his knees slightly, allowing the long-haired man to fit himself comfortably between Heero's legs, both arms wrapping around him, he was still balanced and in no danger of falling.

Once the man was within his reach, he reached up with a small growl and yanked his head down, claiming his mouth in a searing kiss. The other man leaned into the kiss, parting his lips and their tongues tasted each other, demanding and pleading, hungry and intimate. Arms tightened around Heero's waist as the man let out a quiet whimper, and Heero, who hadn't thought he could get so aroused from a kiss, wanted to take him _right_ _there_. He pulled back for air, but the other man let out a growl and dragged him back into a second equally demanding kiss.

With difficulty they finally pulled apart, and stared at each other, lust shining in both pairs of eyes. Finally the purple-eyed man licked slightly swollen lips and said hoarsely. "What's your name?"

"Heero," he replied. Somehow lying to this man, even about something so small like his name, which he had done to all his previous partners – somehow lying to him felt wrong.

A slow, delighted smile. "Heero," the other man repeated, getting it right on the first try, which surprised and gratified him. "I like it. When others hear that, do they usually make some pun or crack a joke?"

He grimaced slightly. "Yes."

This time, the smile was sweetly amused. "Then I shan't. I don't want you to remember me as merely one more face amongst the many people you must have met."

He couldn't help it, and smiled. "You don't have to worry about that."

"I'm glad. My name's Duo."

"Duo." He tried it out, and liked the way it flowed off his tongue. There was nothing he didn't like about Duo, actually, so far. He found that he wanted to know more about him, to hold him and protect him and make love to him for reasons so much more than satisfying his body so that he could work without distractions.

_Excuse me, do you know – do you have any idea – what you sound like?_ the voice in his head demanded.

He knew, and realized too late that it was… well, too late. He knew, and he didn't care.

* * *

A long time ago I promised myself never to be so moronic as to write a love-at-first-sight romance, because such things are stupid and never happen in real life and take all the fun out of watching two people with UST in denial. 

I am a moron.

To those people who hate this story now, feel free to abandon it, or leave me a little note that goes 'yes, you're a moron', and I'll feel hurt but I'll get over it. To those people who hated this story – or more specifically, me, for posting a new story when the old ones aren't done – before this chapter even came out, well, now you can feel justified. -sheepish grin- The thing is, I've been writing so many serious, sad, or long plotful stories, that I wanted to do something… slightly pointless, more action-than-thought, kind of story. So here it is.

To those who didn't mind, or even supported my ever-wandering mind, thank you loads! I don't feel so guilty and wretched now for posting this, though I think I actually ought to. To those who told me in their replies to my other story update that they don't mind, either, I thank you even more. It helped, is all I can say.

Oh, and to redroseprincess678 – thanks for the honest questioning of Heero's out-of-character-ness, and background. Like I said this was meant to be some chicklit relief, so I didn't actually think much about all that, but now that you mention it I realize I should have. I'll work on it – thanks again!

Anyone else has any questions, critique, requests that I take this story more seriously like the others – please do let me know.

Okay, even with the love-at-first-sight thing, hope you enjoyed? Mysterious stuff happens later! Like two chapters later.

**Ashen Skies  
**"_Not as good, but for a mere wine, it'll do."_


	3. In Which the Rating is Justified

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gundam Wing, have any relation to Gundam Wing, have no permission from those who created Gundam Wing to write this. This is purely for fun, to waste time, and to make other people happy reading and to spread the joy of literature to all those poor unenlightened fellow man out there. I am making no profit from this.

**Pairings: **1x2x1, side pairing 3x4

**Summary:** In the world of assassins, everyone knows Heero Yuy's name. And so he is given a seemingly impossible assignment: to track down one Dee Maxwell, and kill him. But then he gets to know an angel named Duo… and life gets really interesting.

* * *

**Angels and Assassins**

_Chapter One: In Which the Rating is Justified, and Duo is Extinct_

_

* * *

_

Duo had come to the club to dance off his frustrations for the past few nights, and he hadn't had any plans to talk to anyone, let alone find a partner. But then he'd felt eyes on him, more intense than the other merely lecherous gazes he'd been unhappily bestowed with, and had searched out that gaze to tell the other person to fuck off.

He hadn't expected the absolutely gorgeous man that the gaze belonged to, sitting up by the bar like some god overseeing his mortals. He hadn't expected the overwhelming rush of attraction that made him tease the other man, wanting him to react. And react he had; when he'd licked his lips Duo had almost groaned out loud.

When the bartender caused the man to look away, the sudden loss that Duo felt had him moving towards the stairs as fast as he could, knowing that he would never be satisfied until he saw the other man up close, until he touched him and held up. And up close, the man – _Heero_ – was so much more alluring. That smirk made him look _hot_, and those eyes, and that _kiss_, and the one _after_ that… but it was when he'd smiled that Duo knew he was lost. He knew he should have lied about his name, he'd always been careful – but he couldn't lie to those dark eyes. He wanted Heero, badly, and not only for his body, either.

So now, slipping his hand underneath Heero's figure-hugging turtleneck and running his fingers over the smooth, hot skin, he offered Heero a hopeful smile. "Do you want to go to the Corner and make use of one of their armchairs?" The room, an extension of the club, was reserved for couples who wanted to simply chat and get to know each other better. Since it was public, anything above kissing and petting wasn't allowed.

Heero nodded. Duo stood back to let him stand, which he did in one smooth movement and Duo marvelled at the grace he had. He picked up his glass of wine and gave Duo a small smile. "Shall we?"

Duo grinned, and pressed himself to Heero's side, slipping an arm around the other man's waist. He was surprised, but glad when Heero transferred the glass to his other hand and put his own arm around Duo's waist, and the two, talking in low voices, made their way to the large, comfy armchairs scattered around the small room behind the glass door in the corner.

"I'm American, but travelled around as a kid – still do, now."

"I'm Japanese, born in Japan but raised since three in America…"

They found a chair, and Heero set the wine down on the small table next to it before settling into the soft seat, tugging Duo down sideways on his lap. They arranged themselves so that Duo's weight was not all on Heero's legs, yet they were as close as it was possible to be. Duo snuggled against Heero, resting his head on a shoulder; Heero wrapped possessive arms around Duo.

By unspoken agreement they didn't mention anything to do with their current lives, but they did talk about everything else. What they loved, liked, disliked, and absolutely loathed; where they had gone and what they wanted to do; things that they had never thought of revealing to anyone else before came tumbling out, and it felt all too natural. Heero ran his fingers through Duo's hair and confided how much he liked the silky strands; Duo kept his hands warm against the skin of Heero's stomach and promised never to cut it short. They kissed and caressed each other, not going too far but wanting to, so badly, and yet not: they liked the peace of it, the quiet powerful intimacy that they shared in this darkened room, filled with murmurs and whispers.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, Duo invited Heero to dance. They rose to their feet, a little regretful, but anticipating the heat of dancing against each other, music pounding with their hearts. Hand in hand they left the room and descended to the dance floor, feeling as if they had known each other all their lives.

They were at the edge of the crowd when a voice yelled, "Dodo! Where the hell have you been?"

Heero blinked and looked around in some confusion. "Dodo? What poor soul…" Then he realized Duo was grimacing.

"That would be me."

"_Dodo_?" Heero repeated incredulously.

"Didn't I tell you she comes up with the most awful nicknames?" Duo groused.

"Ah, your housemate Hilde," Heero said in understanding. He looked around, and spied the girl he'd seen dancing with Duo before – spiky blue hair and clothes that should be outlawed, being almost non-existent. His jaw dropped in a vague sort of horror before he remembered to close it; it was impolite.

Hilde stopped in front of them and glared at Duo. "You idiot, you left me alone to get mobbed by all those men!"

"Isn't that what you _wanted_?" Duo demanded, glowering. "Anyway, I was _busy_."

"Hello," Heero said with an attempt at a smile as Hilde's attention shifted to him. "I'm Heero, and you must be Duo's friend Hilde."

The girl looked at Heero, then at Duo, then back to Heero and then slowly smiled, staring blatantly at him. "My, my, you _have_ been busy, Duo. Having fun, it seems." She sidled closer to the Japanese man, licking her lips as she stared hungrily at him. Heero slowly backed away. He'd never been able to deal with this kind of woman outside the job, where he could just maim them and be done with it... frankly, they scared him a little.

Duo let go of Heero's hand and stepped between them, holding up a hand in front of him and glaring in mock-anger at Hilde. "Down, girl! Drop the nymph act, I _like_ him, okay?"

Hilde pouted. "Duo, you never know. I'll check him out for you first, how 'bout that? I'll make sure to check him… _very_… throroughly."

"Hilde?"

"Yes, Duo?"

"He's _mine_."

Heero blinked, the pure territoriality in Duo's voice making heat shiver deliciously through him. Duo turned to wrap himself around Heero, pressing tightly to him and turning his head to rest on Heero's shoulder, nuzzling his neck. "Mine," the American purred, one hand sliding again under Heero's turtleneck, the other sliding over Heero's ass, and Heero suddenly wanted to trap him against the wall and make hot, fiery love to him right there in the middle of the club.

Hilde threw up her hands. "Fine, _be_ that way," she grumbled. "Just don't expect me to let you in the house tonight." She stalked away, so that only Heero heard Duo's muttered, "But I'm not _planning_ on going back tonight."

She did look back, though, at the cut-off yelp behind her, just in time to see Heero shoving Duo against the wall and kissing him, _hard_, and Duo wrapping his arms around Heero's neck and his legs around Heero's waist. She sighed, then smiled to herself as she melted back into the crowd. Duo deserved someone, and it looked like Heero would be that someone. She hoped.

Duo and Heero had already forgotten about Hilde. "I want you, want you _so bad_," Duo panted between kisses, their moans mingling.

_How did I end up like this?_ Heero wondered hazily. _I'm not supposed to be so involved…I have to start my next assignment tomorrow…if I let this go on I'll never be able to let him go… and… ohhh, god, what is he _doing

Duo had tightened his legs, bringing their hips into even _closer_ contact (though how this was possible, he had no idea), and was _rubbing_ against Heero. "Can we go to your place?" the long-haired man purred in his ear.

_I can't… I have to find and kill someone tomorrow… I can't let Duo…_

Duo, sensing his hesitation, let his legs drop to the floor, and before Heero could react he reversed their positions, pushing the Japanese man against the wall and kissing him as he ground against him, running his hands along Heero's body. He was _good_ at this, and knew that this balance of pressure and pleasure would drive any hesitation – hell, any _logic_ – straight out of the other man's mind and into a cement wall. He looked up into Heero's eyes, invitation and pleading clear.

Heero groaned, surrendering, and gathered Duo in his arms, delivering one last scorching kiss before twining his fingers with Duo's and pulling the long-haired man after him. Duo kept up with him, laughing breathlessly, and hearing him Heero knew that there was no escape, after tonight.

He welcomed that fate with open arms.

And because they were both too caught up in each other, neither of them noticed the cold pair of green eyes watching them go.

* * *

Thank you! Thank you thank you thank you. 

To everyone who told me that even though I am a moron they still love me and don't mind the story anyway, thank you.

Enjoy the sheer mindlessness of this, then.

**Ashen Skies  
**"_Dodo? What poor soul…"_


	4. In Which Heero Is Cool

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gundam Wing, have any relation to Gundam Wing, have no permission from those who created Gundam Wing to write this. This is purely for fun, to waste time, and to make other people happy reading and to spread the joy of literature to all those poor unenlightened fellow man out there. I am making no profit from this.

**Pairings: **1x2x1, side pairing 3x4

**Summary:** In the world of assassins, everyone knows Heero Yuy's name. And so he is given a seemingly impossible assignment: to track down one Dee Maxwell, and kill him. But then he gets to know an angel named Duo… and life gets really interesting.

* * *

**Angels and Assassins**

_Chapter Four: In Which Heero Is Cool, and Duo Does Make-Up _

_

* * *

_

"Ugh…"

Heero threw his arm over his eyes against the autumn sunlight and refused to remove it, even when he heard a low chuckle coming from somewhere in the vicinity of the window. The window took up three-fourths of the wall from the ceiling down, leaving a thigh-high bit of wall at the bottom – he liked the view it afforded. However, as it faced east, the late morning sun now shone in his eyes mercilessly, or would have if he hadn't covered them.

"I didn't think you the type to like to sleep in."

He lifted his arm to mock-glare at the figure shadowed by the light. "Usually I don't, but you see, this devil took over my bed last night and sapped all the energy from my battered and bruised body," he said mildly.

"Oh? All the energy, you say…?" The blinds were re-shuttered and Heero blinked a few times to get rid of the light spots dancing in his eyes, and then stared appreciatively as Duo ran his hands over his entirely butt-naked body, stretching and arching his back to show it off. The fall of unbound hair was the perfect frame for his body, and when he turned, bending over, the hair fell to his sides and presented a lovely eyeful of his… assets.

Heero groaned a little, sitting up in the bed. "Come here," he ordered, trying and failing to restrain the amused and (he had to admit) slightly depraved grin surfacing on his face.

Duo straightened and turned back to face him, hands on his hips and a similar grin on his face. "I thought your battered and bruised body was drained of energy?" he said innocently.

"I didn't say it was a bad thing – Duo!" Heero yelped as the blinds were withdrawn from the window, letting in the light again to attack his eyes. When his sight had adjusted, he shook his head in helpless amusement as Duo struck a pose and crooked a finger at him. "Come here, Heero," the American coaxed. "You know you want to."

"Duo… the entire world can see you."

"I know." Duo gave him a smug grin and turned to face the glass. "That's the whole point. And if you come here and we're within an arm's reach of each other, they'll see us _both_, and wither away knowing that all they can do is watch us two gorgeous men shagging each other silly."

Heero had to laugh. "Exhibitionist," he said, and he found that he didn't even mind all that much the fond note that had crept into his tone.

"You know you love it."

And he had to admit, too, that he did. Duo was right – if they were within reach of each other… he still remembered all of last night. They'd stumbled into his apartment, unable to let go of each other, and had left clothes all over the floor in their haste – the first time had been fast and rough, with Heero on top. Duo had reversed their positions, and their speed, the second time: their lovemaking had been slow and torturously drawn out, with Duo wringing all sorts of noises and reactions from his body. The third time Heero had tied Duo up with a tie he'd grabbed from the cupboard, and that time had been slow but turned rough as Duo made full use of his acting skills to play the role of the debauched maiden; the fourth time Duo had taken advantage of Heero's temporary rest to flip him onto his back, and on his knees... The fifth time, the sixth, the seventh and the eighth times had all been different, but one thing remained constant – they couldn't keep their hands off each other.

All these thoughts ran through his mind in a frozen instant, because in the next second, Heero saw something that made his blood run cold.

There was a red laser dot on Duo's chest, steadily centering on his heart.

"_Get down_!" he yelled, launching himself out of bed. He impacted with Duo in mid-crouch, sending them both sideways and out of the window as the glass shattered all over where Duo had been standing previously, and bullets ripped holes in the wood floor. Heero yanked on the cord, and the shutters dropped to block the light and the view of the sniper; the bullets stopped as he scrambled to his feet and pulled Duo to his in the same movement.

"Why is someone trying to kill you?" he demanded as he avoided the glass on his way to the cupboard, opening it and yanking out two pairs of worn jeans, two plain body-hugging long sleeved shirts, and two pairs of briefs; he tossed one of each item to Duo, who had retreated to the corner of the room. There was a pounding on the door; he shoved the clothes aside, pressured a panel in the wood, hit another spot with his other hand. There was the sound of machinery, faint, but he knew the metal plate had accordingly slid into place over the door since the sounds had been muffled.

"I don't know!" Duo snapped back as Heero dressed. The Japanese man whirled around at the reply to glare at Duo.

"_Think again_."

Heero knew how his expression must have looked like at that instant because of Duo's own face, shock and hurt overriding the fear, but he ignored it in favour of vaulting across the bed to the window – if he let himself think about it, they'd never get out alive. He knelt carefully amongst the glass and parted two slats of the shutters slightly, peering through. _Black mask, black outfit, no bullet-proof padding. Sniper gun, Springfield from the shape, an older make from the bulk – either Ingrid's or a Red. Ingrid would have more men, climbers – dammit, let it be the Reds._

He looked closer, willing his eyes to focus – there! A flash of red on the ear, tiny but there. _Yes! Reds – that explains the sloppy work by the sniper, they prefer face-to-face – also the ignorance of a possible witness, since they're known for being fast and ruthless, so they won't have researched me. Good. Reds, Reds… no, their firepower's only enough to get through the steel with time._

A plan of action formed in his head in a second. He moved back from the window and pinned Duo with a piercing stare. "Do _exactly_ as I say."

Duo nodded, his expression one of only calm determination. Heero spared a moment for a quick, approving smile; then he was all business again. He'd found, in the days before they'd realized that his skill with a partner was _nothing_ compared to when he was unhampered by one, that a partner when unfamiliar with the operation would keep asking questions, and he was glad that Duo wasn't being so stupid.

_It's because he trusts you_, the voice in his head whispered. _I know_, he wanted to reply. He would do anything not to betray that trust.

He only hoped Duo would do the same with the trust that _he_ was risking.

The apartment was furnished with nothing incriminating, just things that a struggling artist would stock; the background to that particular alter-ego was watertight. Only the steel door would betray that their struggling artist was either particularly paranoid or they'd been _really _dumb in such a rash plan of action, but he was confident that they wouldn't find out about his involvement.

He triggered the trick door in the ceiling; a system of pulleys had a section of floor rising up. Once he blew the rigging there wouldn't even be a hollow section of floor to show that there had been a trapdoor; the wood floor would be just that – one solid section of panel-covered concrete; the seams of the section and blown rigging were undetectable except with special X-ray equipment. It was extremely overkill for an organisation like the Reds, and other mainstream groups would have a hard time discovering it, too, but he'd always been careful.

He turned to Duo, indicated the trapdoor. "It's a one-level drop, you have to –"

"Roll with the movement, I know," Duo interrupted, using the bedpost to vault nimbly over the glass shards and land next to the hole. He lowered himself quickly as far as his arms allowed, then dropped. Heero saw him land cat-like, roll with the movement, get up just before he vanished from sight.

_No one moves like that without training._

Later; he had to set it aside for later. He followed Duo, landing not so gracefully but still unhurt, and used the control wired to the wall to blow the rigging. The section of floor fell back. He cut the wires with the knife placed there for that purpose and shoved the remaining wires back into the plugging so that it looked undisturbed, and only then he allowed himself to relax fractionally, looking around the bare apartment except for the cupboard in the corner and the table and chair next to it, strewn with make-up materials with a semi-large mirror propped up in the middle. The cupboard was open, and from the closed bathroom door he surmised Duo was in there.

"Duo?" he called, going over to the door.

"How long do we have?" was the muffled reply.

"They won't find this apartment, but to be safe –" He thought back to the Reds' equipment, then to the steel plating. "I'd rather we get out of here in seven."

"More than enough." The door opened, and Heero blinked at Duo in a shapeless granny dress, his body shape altered beyond recognition.

"Duo?" he said again, this time in disbelief.

The American grinned at him. "I used the padding in your bathroom – hope you don't mind. I assume this apartment's under the lease of an old couple? All the clothes are grandparent-ish. My face is more feminine, so I chose the dress –"

"How the hell do you know this stuff?" Heero interrupted, mind racing with suspicions.

Duo gave him a level look. "We get out of this shit first, then you ask me about how I know and I ask you about why you have reinforced doors and rigged boltholes and a faked apartment with disguises in it. Deal?"

He had a point. "Deal."

Duo pointed to the cupboard. "Pick something and change. I'll do the tune-ups after."

Heero did as he was told, not bothering to use the bathroom – Duo had only done so because the padding was all inside, behind the door. He put on slacks, a worn cotton shirt, a gnarled pullover. Socks, flat shoes; he found another pair and brought them over to Duo, who was expertly using the make-up to transform himself into an old, rosy-cheeked grandmother. Heero watched in awe.

Finally Duo was done, and even Heero would have a hard time recognising him. He told Duo as much as the American got up from the table. Duo grinned at him, and there was a touch of shy pride in it. "Thanks. Sit down and I'll do you. Nice combination of clothes, by the way – perfect for what I had in mind."

Heero almost felt like holding his breath as he watched himself change in the mirror – Duo's touch was gentle, professional, and under it he became a worn but dignified elderly man, with wrinkles tempered with laugh lines and shadows that made him look thinner, frailer.

"Done," Duo said finally. Heero checked his internal clock; not six minutes had passed since they'd first dropped into the apartment. Adrenaline was racing in his veins; the past few minutes, sitting down to let Duo do his work, had done little to diminish it. Now he made an effort to calm down, to think _grandfather_. Emotions and mindset affected a body more than people realized, and from the meditative exercises Duo was doing, he knew it too.

A minute later they were at the door to the apartment, arm-in-arm; a hunched but proud, frail but loving elderly couple. Duo's hair was entirely white, braided and pinned in a way that made it look shorter than it was; Heero's was streaked and straightened to look longer. Both wore blue-coloured contacts. Just as Duo was about to open the door, though, Heero stopped him.

"My words back upstairs," he began, then hesitated, not knowing how to apologize for the harshness of his manner.

Duo smiled at him. "Don't worry about it, love," he said gently.

Heero nodded, and gave him a quick kiss. Then they opened the door, and went outside.

* * *

Finally – some action! Whee. I'm so happy that everyone still likes the story… Hope this chapter lives up to your expectations then. Angst coming up! But first…

**Next Chap:** we have Really Cool Trowa making his appearance!

And did I hear something about... cookies?

**Ashen Skies  
**"_You know you love it."_


	5. In Which Trowa Is Cool

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gundam Wing, have any relation to Gundam Wing, have no permission from those who created Gundam Wing to write this. This is purely for fun, to waste time, and to make other people happy reading and to spread the joy of literature to all those poor unenlightened fellow man out there. I am making no profit from this.

**Pairings: **1x2x1, side pairing 3x4

**Summary:** In the world of assassins, everyone knows Heero Yuy's name. And so he is given a seemingly impossible assignment: to track down one Dee Maxwell, and kill him. But then he gets to know an angel named Duo… and life gets really interesting.

* * *

**Angels and Assassins**

_Chapter Three: In Which Trowa Is Cool_

_

* * *

_

Agent Smith – new to the field, on his first field operation – watched the lift doors intently, gun at the ready. No one really thought that the targets would be so careless as to take the lifts down – besides, the floor that the assassins had been on was full of his colleagues, so they wouldn't even be able to get to the lifts – but better safe than sorry. They had guards posted in the stairway, too, every other level. The targets were supposed to be trickier and more dangerous than the already-subdued earring-wearing bunch.

He brought his gun up as the panel above the lift lit up, and the numbers flashed… even the other lift opening, and shocked little yelp that the woman in the lift let out upon seeing the lobby filled with black-suited operatives, didn't distract him. Finally the lift dinged, and the doors opened.

The elderly couple inside the lift jumped upon seeing him, eyes wide, and the old lady pressed a liver-spotted, shaking hand to her chest, breath coming in shocked gasps. Smith quickly lowered his gun, subtly putting it out of sight of the couple. "I'm sorry, madam, sir. We're CIA. Just a spot of trouble, nothing to worry about," he apologized, pressing the button to hold the doors open for them.

The couple exchanged a glance, speaking without words, and he felt guilty at scaring them. "What… what's the problem?" the old man quavered as he helped his wife out of the lift, movements hesitant. "Young man, will anything… happen? To our apartment?"

He was quick to reassure them. "No, no, nothing will happen. You and all the other residents can leave and enter with freedom. We apologize for the trouble."

The old lady smiled tremulously at him. "Not at all. We are proud to have such young men like you, serving our country."

As the moved towards the lobby doors that led to the main road, Smith caught the eye of Nott, one of the two agents guarding the front doors, and they exchanged an amused smile as they both heard the grandmother confide to her husband, "Such a nice young man. Children these days, they aren't as polite as they used to be, just think of our Sam and those rude people he mixes with…"

Nott turned his focus back onto the glass doors, though, when his partner Carson nudged him in the side, having seen their commanding officer heading their way. The lean, brown-haired youth had earned their respect despite his age, and had proved that he was not one to tolerate the slightest bit of slack. The captain, wearing plain clothes, held the door open for the elderly couple as they exited, nodding to them when they thanked him.

Nott and Carson saluted him as he stepped into the lobby. But surprisingly, their leader paused with his hand on the door, watching the couple move slowly down the sidewalk. There was a slight furrow to his eyebrows as he watched them, his gaze intense.

"Sir…?" Nott ventured.

"That couple… what floor did they come from?" The gaze did not waver from the retreating silhouettes of the two grandparents.

Nott and Carson automatically looked at Smith, who looked trapped. "Uh… eleven?"

"Is that a guess, agent?" His voice was soft, but in the sudden silence of the lobby it cut through the air easily.

Smith gulped. "No sir!"

"Eleven." The captain nodded once, and turned to Nott and Carson. "Get some shadows on them _now_. And I want information on the occupants on the eleventh floor, particularly the unit underneath the targets' apartment."

"Yes sir!"

"Good." He slid his mobile phone from his pocket and quick-dialled a number, watching as two agents in plain clothes hurried out onto the street.

There was a click at the other end of the line. "Kushrenada here."

"Sir, this is Barton. I need some X-ray equipment here immediately…"

* * *

"The bartender," Heero muttered to Duo agitatedly in an undertone. 

Duo gave him weird look. "The bartender? The CIA!"

Heero glared at him, frustrated. "The captain! The bartender!"

"The bartender?" Duo finally got it. "The _CIA_?"

"The captain," Heero confirmed.

"The _hell_?"

Heero restrained himself from rolling his eyes – lover or not, Duo was slow. His mind raced, trying to piece together what he'd heard. How had the CIA, of all unlikely organisations, because involved in this disaster? Were their targets the Reds, or the two of them? Was the captain being the bartender at the club last night merely a coincidence?

No. Nothing was coincidental.

So Duo was their target. But no – that couldn't be confirmed. Their target could be the Reds, and so they could have used Duo as unknowing bait. But once they checked his apartment – and the CIA had the necessary equipment – they'd find the hidden rigging. Then they'd find the apartment below. Then they'd suspect him and Duo of _something_, because normal people didn't have escape routes in their houses. So those apartments had to be abandoned permanently, but he was still confident that he wouldn't be implicated.

He'd felt the captain's eyes on his back, all the way down the pavement. That alone told him something was wrong – no matter who the target was, the green-eyed man suspected something about the two of them. They had to play the part all the way, and from Duo not making any moves, he knew Duo had felt it too.

"We have shadows," Duo murmured, and it took a second for Heero to understand. _Damn._ So the captain was confirmedly suspicious of them – he was _good_. He was smart enough to call in the special equipment necessary to identify the rigging. Heero could see that Duo was put out that they'd been recognized, and he squeezed Duo's hand and smiled warmly at him. Duo managed to smile back, and Heero felt a pang of sadness – the longing in Duo's eyes whenever they used the word 'us' made his heart hurt, and he knew that deep down Duo was still an innocent. He wasn't used to the cloak-and-dagger-in-the-back world of assassins and spies.

Or was he? His ease with disguises… _Focus, Yuy. Time enough for that later._

"They're just suspicious, or they'd have pulled us in without wasting time trailing us," Heero murmured to Duo. "We have time, but we need to shake them off."

Duo thought for a moment, and then a smirk surfaced. "I have a plan."

"I'm listening."

* * *

DUO SHAPED COOKIES. – grabs and munches – Any Heero ones to go along, so that Duo won't feel lonely being digested? Mmm… I feel inspiration coming on already. And are those more cookies I see? Triple choc ones would be nice. 

Hope you liked the chapter! To answer some questions: yes, there will be 3x4 in the future. Somewhere. And sorry, but I don't think I'll be writing a lemon in here… at least not an explicit one. – smirks – I'll see how far I can stretch the rating…

Thanks for all the reviews (and cookies), everyone!

**Ashen Skies  
**"_The _hell_?"_


	6. In Which Heero Has Hysterics

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gundam Wing, have any relation to Gundam Wing, have no permission from those who created Gundam Wing to write this. This is purely for fun, to waste time, and to make other people happy reading and to spread the joy of literature to all those poor unenlightened fellow man out there. I am making no profit from this.

**Pairings: **1x2x1, side pairing 3x4

**Summary:** In the world of assassins, everyone knows Heero Yuy's name. And so he is given a seemingly impossible assignment: to track down one Dee Maxwell, and kill him. But then he gets to know an angel named Duo… and life gets really interesting.

* * *

**Angels and Assassins**

_Chapter Six: In Which Heero Has Hysterics (Hey, H-Alliteration!)_

_

* * *

_

They took a cab down to a café on Queensway, and went in. Heero found a table for two and sat; Duo went to talk to the guy behind the counter. A moment later he joined Heero, grinning, and gave him a little nod. They both stood, moving out of sight of the front windows to a quiet corner, and waited.

A few seconds later a couple, a man and a woman, came in and nonchalantly scanned the room quickly. Heero and Duo, being served two cups of tea by a waiter, didn't look up.

"Why, madam, sir, it's your lucky day!" a cheerful voice boomed, and the agents at the door jumped a little as waiters suddenly swarmed around them. "You're the fiftieth couple today and so you get a free meal, on the house!"

They tried to object, but the entire restaurant turned to look at them and their protests were drowned by the fawning of the waiters and the clapping and cheering of the customers. They had no choice but to let themselves be led to a table and seated. A whole swarm of waiters surrounded them, neatly cutting off their view of Heero and Duo, who immediately got up and slipped out to the back.

A man met them there and showed them to the bathrooms, giving them some clothes, and they changed quickly. Two teenage boys exited an alleyway a minute later, casually strolling off. A few quick twists and turns, Duo in the lead – he knew this area, where Heero didn't – and when they were sure they had lost their shadows they hailed another cab. Duo gave the driver the address.

Now that they were safe, the tension between them resurfaced; an awkward silence fell. They didn't say anything until they alighted before a row of terrace houses, and Duo went up to the front door of number twenty-eight and knocked.

The door was flung open and a girl wearing an oversized T-shirt over a pair of old jean overalls stood there glaring at Duo. "You!" she exclaimed, jabbing a finger at him. "Didn't call me! Last night!"

Duo grinned sheepishly. "A lot has happened since then, okay, Hilde? Let us in."

"Us?" Hilde said suspiciously, peering behind Duo, as Heero said at the same time in incredulity, "Hilde?"

"_Him_?" Hilde yelped, upon seeing Heero.

"The _nymph_?" Heero said in disbelief, mentally comparing the Hilde from last night and the Hilde now.

Duo waved his arms. "Whoa, stop right there! Hilde, darling, let us in, okay? I'm in deep shit."

"_We're_ in deep shit," murmured Heero as he passed Duo, going into the house. "Don't forget the _we_."

He didn't have to look to sense the smile gracing Duo's face at his words.

Hilde flopped down in a large armchair in the middle of the living room. "Okay. Tell me."

Duo sighed and sat on the sofa, patting the seat next to him. Heero sat. "Okay… where do I start?"

"From the end?" Hilde suggested. "From the beginning, you idiot, of course!"

"Okay, okay. I was almost snipered this morning."

Hilde stared.

"Then I dressed up as an old grandmother, evaded the CIA, and got here."

Hilde stared.

"Oh, and I met the bartender from last night, only he recognized me."

Heero rolled his eyes and refrained from comment as Hilde stood and calmly crossed over to where Duo sat. Then _Heero_ stared, open-mouthed, as Hilde grabbed a pillow and proceeded to bludgeon Duo to death with an energy that scared him. "You _idiot_ you think this is _funny_ you almost got yourself _killed_ and I was worried all _night_ and you still come and make _jokes_ to my _face_ –"

Duo yelped and latched onto Heero. "Save me!"

Hilde paused in her ministrations and raised her eyebrow at Heero, who solemnly nodded to her, pried Duo off him, and sat him on the sofa. He stood.

"All yours," he told the girl.

She grinned and held the pillow over Duo's head; the braided boy made a face at Heero. "I thought you loved me!" he said accusingly, holding his hands protectively over his head.

"I still do, but she might jump me if I go against her."

"Hmph." Duo looked unconvinced, and the smirk on Heero's face probably didn't help his case any.

"Tell me _again_, Duo," Hilde said sweetly.

"Okay, okay…" Duo recounted the story, leaving nothing out, and Heero was pleased to hear his own deductions about the CIA's possible intentions from Duo's own mouth. He and Hilde reclaimed their seats as Duo spoke, and when he finished a silence fell.

"Oh, Duo…" Hilde sighed finally. "You've really got yourself into a mess this time, Maxwell."

_Maxwell_.

_Duo._

_Duo Maxwell… Dee Maxwell._

_Quatre, saying: I did mention he's a master of disguises, right?_

_No._

His fists clenched unconsciously, nails digging into his palms, and his eyes were unseeing as the reality finally hit him.

He was supposed to assassinate _Duo_.

His two guns weighed heavy in their concealed sheaths. It would be so easy – two guns, two targets. He could draw them out effortlessly, quickly; they'd been modified for that, to be smooth against hands and clothes, to have a short and dry trigger. He'd done it so many times – just draw, and shoot, and he'd save his company, boost its reputation, bring in the largest sum of money they'd ever seen. Quatre, all his friends, they would be pleased, and proud, and his own reputation would rocket sky-high at having succeeded so quickly on such a difficult job…

He realized that he was trembling, and that somehow he'd been drawn into Duo's embrace, his head on Duo's shoulder, and the American was stroking his back with soothing hands, whispering nonsensical words into his ear – _it's okay, it'll be alright, I'm not letting anything happen to you, to us, it's okay…_

It would be so easy.

He wouldn't be betraying Quatre, the only one who had believed in him, trusted him, taken him in and helped him. He wouldn't be betraying his friends in the company, the precious few he had, and so close they were almost brothers. He wouldn't be betraying his own promise to himself, the self-set rules that were ingrained in him – once he said he would do something, he followed it to the end, and finished it.

Finish… Duo.

Duo, who was comforting him. Duo, who he had made love to, who had whispered _Love you_ and who had trusted him implicitly. Duo, who had gotten them out safely, and asked no questions.

He struggled out of Duo's embrace, and stumbled out of the room. Anywhere, somewhere private – he ran up the stairs, and went into the first room he opened the door to. He shut and locked the door behind him and went over to sit on the bed, but his legs gave out under him and he ended up on the floor, his back leaning against the mattress.

He had to kill Duo.

Duo, who he… loved, or something damned close to it.

Heero put his head in his hands and started laughing. He was aware that it was slightly hysterical, but it was allowed in the circumstances, he supposed. Oh, the _irony_, the sheer _stupidity_ of it all.

He remembered Quatre saying _Don't worry, I bet you'll find Maxwell in no time at all!_ "Winner," he murmured, "You have no idea."

The door opened; he looked up. Duo was standing there, looking unsure. "Hey," he said softly. "I, uh, have a key. To my room."

"Oh." Heero finally looked around and realized that it did look like a room Duo would live in. "Nice room."

"Thanks." Duo shut the door quietly behind him and locked it, and then looked at Heero. "May I sit?"

"It's your room." Heero lifted one shoulder in a slight shrug.

Duo sat next to him, on the floor. "So, uh… I suppose you hate me now."

Heero blinked and turned his head to look at Duo. "Sorry?"

The braided boy shifted uncomfortably. "I dragged you into this whole mess… someone tried to kill _me_, and I got you implicated. You can't go back to your apartment…"

"I have more."

"Oh."

Heero suppressed a sigh. "I don't hate you."

Duo smiled a little. "That's good. You, uh, asked me a question. Why was someone trying to kill me, and I said I didn't know… I kind of lied. And I'm Duo Maxwell – I run, I hide, but I never lie, and so I'm going to tell you everything. Not really because I lied, but because I want to. I want you to know everything about me, and, and…" he trailed off. "Sorry. Babbling."

Heero waited mutely.

"I used to be a researcher in a small university lab, unknown and unrecognized. Then I made a discovery, a breakthrough, on something really big… and the big labs got wind of it. Everyone wanted me to work for them after that, so I aimed high and waited for someone to accept my terms – a five figure pay, sort of thing. And I asked for anonymity. I didn't want anyone to know what I really looked like, because my research… it could be used for bad, for good, either way. It was dangerous.

"A few accepted my terms, but BioT – the famous one, the real one – made the best offer, upping the salary and giving me more than I expected, so I signed up with them. But recently I discovered some corruption… I dug deeper. What I found scared me. They obviously weren't going to use my research in a good way… and then I made an even bigger discovery. Something that could help thousands or – or massacre them."

Duo drew in a shuddering breath. "I couldn't let them get hold of that. I packed up, cleaned out everything, destroyed all I could and then I ran. They want what I know, but I left no paper or electronic trace of my work, and all that's left is in my head."

_They think he kept records,_ Heero thought dully. _They want the research and Duo dead. I'll have to pry it out of him before I kill him._

"So… that's all, really." Duo attempted a smile. "Dirty laundry out to air. I… I won't ask about you, Heero. I don't need to know. All I need is – I just want to know if you're staying. I won't blame you if you – if you don't."

Heero heard the catch in Duo's voice, and stared blankly at his hands. Hands that had killed so many… hands that were going to kill Duo.

Were they?

Either he betrayed the only family he'd ever known and himself, or he betrayed Duo… and himself, again. Lose-lose. He hated situations like these.

"Heero?" Duo's voice was pleading, with a hint of desperation. "If you want – you can ask me anything you want to. If it'd help."

"How did you know so much about the way to drop safely, and the disguises?" Heero heard his voice ask. It sounded dead, even to his ears.

Duo winced a little, then said softly, "I… I was a street rat. In the slums. I had to steal and hide and disguise myself, and run from people who wanted to kill me, hurt me… I had to kill, and hurt others. To live. And then I joined a gang, and learned more about weapons and it just snowballed when the gang expanded and became more of a syndicate. I had no other choice! It was either that, or sell myself, my body… I'm sorry. I know it's disgusting, I know it's wrong…" He trailed off when he saw Heero slowly shaking his head. "Heero?"

"You did what you had to do. I don't mind."

Duo blinked. "…Oh. That's good." He looked down, and said quietly, more to himself than to Heero, "You have no idea how glad I am to hear that."

Heero wanted to hug him, to hold him close, to chase away the demons that had put the pain in that normally light voice. He wanted to help Quatre. He wanted Duo. He wanted fame and recognition. He wanted love, and friendship. He wanted… he wanted…

What _did_ he want?

There was a knock on the door. Hilde's voice filtered through the wood, slightly hesitant. "Um, Duo? Heero? I'm sorry for interrupting, but, well, with so many people on your trail, it's best if you get out of the country as soon as possible, and to do that… I know Duo's done it before, but I think we have to sit Heero down and explain some things."

Duo cleared his throat. "Just a moment!" he called to Hilde, and then turned to face Heero, eyes downcast. "Do you… do you want to leave? If anything happens I'll pretend you were just some innocent bystander… I won't tell them who you are, even on pain of death." He swallowed hard, and continued shakily, "I'll provide everything you need to get back to your life, though you probably already have measures in place for this sort of thing, but all you have to do is ask and I'll give it, if I can. What you choose is up to you, but… you have to decide now. I'm sorry."

He climbed to his feet, and stood looking down on Heero's bowed head. "I'll come back in five minutes to ask what you've decided… I know you have some sort of past, too, but I swear I won't ask until you tell me, if you ever do. I don't need to know anything else but that you're, well, you, because I… I think I might just love you, if it means anything now."

He'd only taken one step when he was halted by Heero's hand grabbing onto his jeans. He hesitated, unsure. "Heero?"

"…Repeat that last sentence again."

Duo felt something treacherously close to hope filling him at that low, quiet voice. He didn't dare turn around to see the Japanese boy's reaction as he said, "Heero… I think I love you. Does that… mean anything?"

Heero let out a shaky laugh. "You wouldn't believe what it means, Duo Maxwell." There was movement behind him, and then Duo felt Heero sigh against his neck, his forehead coming to rest gently on his shoulder. "Promise… you won't ask?"

A wide smile spread across Duo's face, and he let it. "Never," he said firmly. "Never, never, never… if that's what it takes to keep you with me. I know I'm being selfish, but I just…"

"It's not you being selfish," Heero interrupted. "It's me, and we both know it."

Duo hesitated, then said, "I thought it was going to be 'us' from now on?"

He _felt_ Heero laugh a little. "Then we're both being selfish, but we both don't mind, do we?"

Turning around, he smiled up at Heero. "No. We don't."

And seeing the answering smile, shaky but no less real, Duo thought it might just work out after all. He leaned in close –

"Hey, have you two died in there?"

– and sighed when Hilde's voice came again. "We're coming! Geez, keep your hair on."

Heero smirked a little and gave Duo a gentle push. "Time to go meet your fate."

"What happened to the 'we'?" Duo demanded over his shoulder as he opened the door.

"When it comes to Hilde, you're on your own."

_I'm doomed,_ Duo thought contentedly as he was half-pushed, half-pulled through the doorway. But when he felt Heero's hand catch hold of his, he had to smile. _Though… that might not be such a bad thing._

_

* * *

_

AUGH why does my angst keep ending up as SAP. SAP SAP SAP.

– throws self against wall –

Hot Heero and hot Trowa are both cool! XD Ahahaha. Ooh, _shirtless_ Heero cookies! And cookies of everyone else too! – munches – Triple choc ones and rainbow sprinkle ones and oh my, stolen ones! I eat them with glee. And what's that about… _muffins_?

Any critique of this chapter, please do let me know! Like I said, I'm not happy with the way the supposed angst turned out into this mushy, gooey MESS. If anyone else was unhappy or happy with this, please tell me, too.

Thank you to all those wonderful people who exercised their virtual culinary skills for my growing appetite! This chapter is for you… the good bits of it, anyway.

**Ashen Skies  
**_"Does that… mean anything?"_


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